


Timeless

by unknowntolifeitself



Category: True Blood (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by True Blood (TV), Overpowered Oc, SO, Smut, So here we are, Vampires, and some smut, bloodsucking, but i still want fluff, but it will be, but wattpad murders me, how the hell do i even tag this, i ain't a fast slut, i have a final assignment due, i prefer ao3 much more, i watched true blood ages ago, i've done fluff before but it is time for some smut, it ain't nasty yet, started this years ago on wattpad, vampire, wanna try my hand at some real gruesome gore, what even is true blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowntolifeitself/pseuds/unknowntolifeitself
Summary: "Time only hardens the soul."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Life had become uneventful and repetitive. Nights spent sitting on his throne watching drunk men and women hooking up with anything standing. Reaching the peak of his existence, Eric Northman possessed and had seen/done everything. However, even with all that wealth and power, something was missing.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~For years, Amaranth O'Reilly walked the shadows alone not caring for anyone or anything but herself. With her tough exterior, she was the female version of the "bad boy" from all of her favourite books. As time passed, the loneliness started to empower her. Desperate to regain self-control, she did the last thing she ever thought she'd do. Doing so might have made her walk into trouble, quite literally.
Relationships: Eric Northman/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This used to be posted on Wattpad on my old account, but as I have decided that I really dislike Wattpad and much prefer AO3, I've now transferred this here. I hope the few people that were still waiting for the new chapter, months and years after the last chapter have followed it here. I hope to fall back in love with the story through this platform and perhaps get myself to write more of it faster!   
> Enjoy! -I

A dark, cold, focused green. That's what caught his eye.

The way the green orbs pierced through him from across the room, with no knowledge of what they were doing, it made him feel something. Eric had never felt like this, never. When the green scanned his face for a fleeting second and disappeared in the next, he felt need. He felt as if he gained and lost everything in a single second.

How could a pair of unknown green eyes make him feel so much, in such little time? Eric just had to find out who was doing this to him.

♦§§§♦

She'd been standing across the street for the past thirty minutes, watching half-dressed men and women walking in and wobbling out of the red light. She wanted to meet people, or so she tried to make herself believe.

The past year had been troubling. Her decaying body wasn't anything new, but when she felt her heart and soul slowly disappear, she realized that she'd be just another empty corpse crawling the shadows.

Tonight was the night she'd attempt to regain life; well a reproduction of it anyway. She would walk under the red light, join all of the rotting corpses and drink until her heart started beating again.

She walked across the street, knowing this was the only way. She passed through the red glow, feeling the warmth of light like the burning of the sun from her distant memories. And she entered the beast's belly.

* * *

"What can I get ya, pretty lady?" The bartender had asked, as she sat down on the lonely stool in the crowded room.

A golden clip held her dark hair slightly back. It fell onto her back like an oil spill; a sea of death. It flowed from side to side as she gazed around the room. The bartender watched the black ocean before him, scratching his two-day-old stubble with his bloody nails. His shift was going to end soon and he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into something sweet.

"Goldy! Are ya gonna order anytime soon?" He had asked, getting impatient.

Once she turned to face the thirsty bartender, her bright forest eyes became the one thing he craved. Rough strands escaped the golden clip and framed her lifeless skin and story filled gaze like a work of art. He felt his body turn to ice as he watched her brows furrow into an untrustworthy glare. He'd fallen into a trap. His thoughts held no meaning, and movements weren't possible at this point.

"A Neg," was all she spit out to the dehydrated bartender. Once she turned back towards the horny wave of people, the trance broke. The bartender felt his lungs fill with air he did not need, and he had now been able to focus on something other than her glaring eyes. Being a newborn, the bartender had not been used to feeling this way; maybe one day he would've learned.

♦§§§♦

"I hate this," she had thought pouting.

Watching the twerking drunks, she'd chugged her drink down in a single gulp. This was certainly not a place for her, and she knew it to her very core. The bartender and his bloodshot eyes, the passed-out Breather drooling next to her, and the frozen blue stare from beyond the crowd had been atrociously too much for her. She was never meant for a life of drinks, music, and lights, heart beating or not.

That should have been her cue. The moment where she'd scurry along, out the door, and forget all about regaining her soul. But something stopped her. Was it the smell of A Neg escaping a fresh cut? Or the thought of having that Drooler as a midnight snake? Not a soul shall ever know. 

Although, what is certain is that when the vicious blue stood in front of her, blocking her view of the Twerkers, she felt her heartbeat. And she didn't like it, not one bit.

* * *

Eric watched the green scan him, and it was exhilarating. It had stabbed up and down his body and left scars that burned like the sun's rays. These precious emeralds would be the ones to give him life, and he had sworn to himself, to his happiness, that he'd make it happen.

"Eric," he'd bowed down. "Pleasure to meet you...?"

"O'Reilly," the black-haired woman had barked. "Amaranth O'Reilly."

The way her voice had become softer at the end, had made Eric shiver, something he hadn't done in ages.

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman." The emeralds rolled, and the lips sighed. This had not been Eric's best line, and he knew it.

"Eric, what?" Amaranth had questioned, as she picked at her bare nails.

"Eric Northman," he had answered as he slid on the stool next to her.

This was the beginning, their beginning. The two soulless bodies had sat next to each other the entire night, making extraordinarily small talk. The lady had only answered in grunts or one-worded sentences, and the Viking had recounted his endless tales of battle.

When the moon had started to descend and the sun was slowly waking, the two parted ways. No goodbye kiss, no handshake. Amaranth had stood up and left, without a word. Eric had chugged his last drink with remorse and went to his coffin, where he'd lay thinking of the vibrant emeralds.

This might have been their beginning but it sure felt like the end for poor Eric. Although, what the Viking had not known was that little O'Reilly had been laying on her own makeshift bed thinking about the smirking man.


	2. Chapter 1

_He was arrogant, possessive, and violent_ , _but he was mine_.

I shut the book with finality, its snap echoing in the trunk of my car. My hands crisped around its bind, I press it to my chest, the sweet smell of print circling my makeshift coffin, as I take in the events I've just lived through.

I could lay here raking my brain for the reason the main character had decided that such an awful man would make a good mate, but I'd never find it. There was no true judgement to her thoughts, no brain in her thick skull; simply lust and untamed sexual fantasies. Pathetic, really. Even more pathetic that my fingers reach for its sequel without a second thought.

I must admit, there's a magic to them, a spark that illuminates a flame in me. Curiosity perhaps? I reach into a world of an unknown at every page turn. I witness words detailing new feelings, new touches; things I haven't felt in far too long.

I might not understand her logic, in loving such a person, but I understand her lust. At least... I desire it.

 _Would he touch me like that?_ My thoughts betray me, giving way to the blond man from the bar. The character's dark eyes now replaced by the light ones that had burned my skin the entire night. Cold skin against colder hands instead of warm hands and rosy cheeks. _Would he love me like that?_

I stutter at my thoughts. Taken aback at how ridiculous I sound in my own mind. How pathetic have I become to believe a _male_ could do anything but displease me? I am really losing myself to Death.

...

Their on-again, off-again relationship is back on with the ripping of a still very good dress shirt when my clock rattles on the passenger seat. The sun has fully set.

Setting the book down with the rest of the unread, I stretch my limbs, more out of habit than need. It's a Breather habit I have yet to let go of, even after so many decades.

I push the rear seats down, trunk flowing with light from the lamppost hanging over my car. The tires bounce with my movements, as I crawl to the front, books and empty Tru Bloods littering my surroundings. Silencing the alarm, I plop down in the driver seat, head now resting against the window. The crunch under me is what captures my attention. The lump, that once rested between my rotting flesh and the cushioned seat, is what makes my mind wander back to blue.

A napkin from the bar. Crumpled and stained with red, I had dropped it on my way to the trunk. Left it here to be found in the evening, to be held tight in my dead fingers, and to remind me of the man I had spent all day trying to forget.

"Eric," I whisper to the emptiness, testing out the name on my tongue.

My lungs tempt to defy me, by surging a lovesick giggle out of my lips. I am damn pathetic. Letting a stranger torment my rest, infect my thoughts, and worst of all, lead me to hope. To hope of a sun-filled future, with warmth and love. To hope for something I will never have, not anymore.

Groaning, I toss the napkin out of my sight. It's foul smell bringing too many memories, memories of a strong voice and soft looks, memories I could not let myself entertain. I cannot be this weak, especially not for a man; I wasn't created this way. Master would be so disappointed in me if they knew. If they knew what I had become.

I have to get a hold of myself. I must stop this ridiculous fantasizing of a man I will never see again, immediately.

_Eric_ _Northman._

"Why is it so hard?!" I whined, hitting my skull back against the glass. My hands pressed onto my eyes, slid down my face in exasperation. Why can't I simply cease thinking about his everlasting presence? Or the way he moves his hands as he speaks? Why can't I forget him? I truly am pathetic.

 _Tap. Tap._ Knuckles scrape behind me, making my ears perk. Has a Breather come to give me a parking ticket? At this time? I am certain that I parked correctly, where I could rest in peace. Perhaps I hadn't, perhaps I had been mistaken...

Shifting in the seat, I turn towards the stranger, ready to pull out my registration. I could always just charm them. Get me out of another sticky situation... Maybe I should do that with-

Blue. My vision is engulfed in blue. Cold, deathly, blue that runs down my spine like a winter breeze. My heart stutters in its cage, threatening to colour my cheeks a red they haven't felt in too long. 

He's there. On the other side of the dirty glass. Pale lips stretched into a knowing smirk, cocky and humorous all at once. There he is, tapping on my window.

_Eric._


End file.
